


I Will Love you 'Til the End of Time

by InsideYourMindscape



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mild Gore, Multi, No Smut, Shipping, Slow Burn, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29681439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsideYourMindscape/pseuds/InsideYourMindscape
Summary: Karl is plagued by dreams of a man he once knew in the past. He is forced to choose between the love of his life and a figure of the past, who for all he knows is dead.Dream continues to terrorize the isle of New L'manberg and Snowchester. All seems lost until Karl reaches into the past and attempts to stop reality.This is the tale between a lone time traveller and his ego torn between worlds and love.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Dream/GeorgeNotFound
Kudos: 13





	1. Don't Stray From the Path

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is the first chapter of a series that I will hopefully be dragging out for a while. This will include shipping between multiple characters, but will include absolutely no smut, lemon, or lime. Purely angst and fluff. I will also not do ANY shipping between minors. I'm alright if CC's see this, but please don't spam in twitter comments/donate about it! If any CC included in this story is uncomfortable with my writing, I will take it down immediately, if that wasn't a given. This is PURELY about Dream SMP characters, mostly revolved around Tales of the SMP and Karl Jacobs. Enjoy!

“DON’T STRAY FROM THE PATH. DON’T STRAY FROM THE PATH.” 

The words repeat endlessly in the journal, if you could call it that. The cover is scarred and marked with mud and a faint smudge of a coppery red crust. It’s out of place, especially in a place like here. This is supposed to be my safe place. A place for rest, contentment, a place I can rest assure I can escape the horrors of time. The horrors of the past, present, and future. But I question The Inbetween’s intentions.

I set the book under the tree, running back to my place on the path. I walk away, yet the feeling of dread and that I’m not as safe as I thought I was lingers deep within my skin. It hangs over my head like Tantalus reaching for an ounce of food, but instead I'm reaching for answers. I need them. I’ve lived in mystery my entire life. Sheltered by some higher power, a god, if you will. My fingertips ache where they rested on the book.  _ Placebo.  _ I think, yet that feeling remains. 

I walk to the entrance of The Inbetween and wait for the twinkle of The Light, I call it, to bring me back to reality.

Reality. A strange concept, isn’t it? Who says reality is what we think it is? Who says I'm real? Is there some higher power pulling the strings of fate and truth, manipulating us like a sick game of chess? I used to be like the rest of them, rooted in reality. Trusting that I was myself and myself was I. But am I anything more than a pawn in the universe's game of monopoly? Or am I more than that? For starters, I can manipulate time and space, creating warps in my own reality.  _ Our _ own reality. I’ve always been stuck on the logic of my “power”. When I travel back, when I leave this reality and open the door to a new one, am I changing the future? Am I saving the world? Ending it? Am I creating a new Schlatt? Bringing war and all that comes with it to our small isle, our own world and life and  _ home _ ? Or was I a part of the past in the first place? Was I always destined to travel back, seek my roots, solve these issues, and die again and again and again? I guess i’ll never truly know. Not in the way that I'd like to. 

I’ve learned to let go of the past. Come to terms with the loss and change and violence. There was nothing I could do about it. I’m no stronger or faster or smarter than the rest of them. People are always under the impression that just because we live in the future, just because we’re more advanced or have bigger societies, more government, greater and more complex machines, that we are somehow better than those who lived before us. I have experienced first hand the charm and glory of the past. I have experienced emotion and lust and anger and happiness. We are no different than our predecessors, no more intellectual or worthy than our grandfathers and our grandfather’s grandfathers. We live to seek acceptance and love and validation, and convince ourselves that somehow we must be better than those who built our cities, our countries, our legacy.

I glance up at The Light slowly making its way to me. Slowly but surely, taking its time as it continues to engulf my surroundings with a sense of peace, passion. It doesn’t speak, nor does it ever seem to take the form of any specific thing. It is stuck in limbo, shifting and churning in it’s own existence, it’s own reality. There it is again, that word. Reality. I sometimes question how The Light feels about its purpose. Its reason for living, existing. Does it feel frustrated? Angry? Scared? Does it feel anything at all? Is The Light created by something bigger, something more ethereal, just to take and return people like me? People who desired purpose and reason to their life? 

As The Light continues to engulf my surroundings, I sit. The tile is cold, smooth. It feels polished and clean, as if a godly janitor enters The Inbetween to clean up my footprints, my touch, my dirt. 

I have yet to explore the behemoth that is The Inbetween. The ceilings stretch to the height of skyscrapers, colossal giants and gods. Though The Inbetween has always emitted a soft feeling of acceptance and warmth, the feeling of floating in a pool when no one else is around, gliding in the abyss of water, gravity abandoning all purpose and reason, letting oneself get lost in the endless pool of serenity. Losing yourself as fast as you lose your purpose. 

A growing sense of foreboding and disettiquete flood my senses. It’s almost as if the pool begins to rise, filling up faster than you can keep yourself afloat. Slowly overpowering you, leaving you in the darkness of the ocean. The castle begins to shake, a low rumble reverberating throughout the palace. I hear a crack, and spin around. The ground that I sit on is beginning to fracture, the polished tile splitting. I look back around, and The Light is gone. The entrance begins to close, the oak doors slowly swinging shut. I hear a chandelier fall in the distance. The doors continue to close. I stand up and sprint towards the opening. 

_ 30 meters _

The floor cracks again, and chunks of the ground fall into the void. I jump over a fissure as it collapses beneath my shoes, scrambling towards the doors

_ 20 meters _

The door is ¾’s of the way closed, only a 4 foot gap left.

_ 10 meters _

I speed up, focussing every bit of energy and stamina that I have into running.

_ 5 meters _

I slide in between the doors just as they shut.

  
  


I fall.


	2. Mi Amor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karl is confronted by his two lovers, vengeful and angry at whoever, or... whatever.. hurt him. Karl is forced between lying and putting Sapnap in danger, or telling the truth and risking the destruction of the universe.

Abyss. Darkness. It surrounds me, and I'm drowning. I’m drowning and I can’t breathe and I’m blind and I’m panicking. My lungs feel like they’re collapsing, my eyes ripped from their sockets. My chest is filled with an inky dread, unexplainable pain erupting from inside of me. A demon unleashed, its sole purpose to torment and rip every bit of what makes oneself their own person. My identity fractures and I begin to lose myself. I don’t know my name. I don’t know who I am. Who am I? _What_ am I? The pain continues and the only thing subduing is my self worth. My identity and existence rots within me. I try to scream but when I open my mouth the murk fills my throat. I can feel myself dissolving into nothingness, my limbs turning into dust. All I know is pain. The doors of death themself beckoning to me. My eyes bleed blackness and my legs begin to fade. I can feel myself being ripped apart, atom by atom. Whatever this entity is, it was born to consume pain and torment. And it’s starving.

My eyes open. I’m lying on the floor of the library. I rub the back of my head and look at my hand. It’s covered in blood. My fingers are cramped and my clothes are torn to shreds. I stand up and look for an empty book to write down my last 3 hours. But as my hand reaches for a journal, my hand passes through the leather.

_What?_

I grab for it again and it’s solid.

_What in God’s name..?_

I shake my head. I’m hallucinating. I open the book and grab a pen.

_“Diary Entry #???_

_I can’t seem to remember where I traveled to this time, but when I returned to The Inbetween, the strangest thing happened.”_

I pause and place the pen back down. How would I ever describe what happened? I was tortured by some malicious spirit who wanted to rip me apart? Yeah. Sure. 

_“While waiting for The Light, The Inbetween began to collapse. I fell into a world of darkness and pain. I can’t remember much, but it was beyond dark. It was like if midnight met hell. I was scared. So, so scared. It was smart, and it wanted blood.”_

I close the book and place it on the shelf. The blood is still running down the back of my neck, and my chest is almost completely visible through my torn hoodie. I look down at my chest in dismay.

_That was my favorite sweatshirt._

I shake my head and slide the bookshelf to the side. I climb out into the fresh air and take a breath. It’s cold outside. The air is bitter against my bare skin, and snowflakes begin to fall, melting at my touch. 

Behind me, the concrete is stained with dots and specks of blood. My head is still bleeding. The sun rises slowly in the distance, casting streaks of orange and golden yellow across the valley of New L’manburg. Across my home.

Someone calls me from a distance. “Karl? Karl! Karl where are you?” the voice is tinged with annoyance, as if I had awoken them from a deep sleep.

Sapnap comes sprinting from around the corner of the library, his hair stuck to his face and the collar of his shirt dipping down to his collarbone. 

“Karl where the fuck have you been? Alex and I have been searching all goddamn day, you left your house at like 3 am _two days ago_ . What in the name of- is that blood?” He looks at my hand. His tone softens and he grabs my wrist “My love, where have you _been?_ ” 

“I went out looking for bamboo- I guess I passed out or something. I had to take a portal back here.” I lie.

“Bamboo..? Karl, we have an entire farm like 3 miles from here. And there isn’t a portal anywhere near the library.” He glares at me. “Don’t lie to me.” He retracts his hand and crosses his arms. “Where were you? It isn’t fair to me or Alex for you to just disappear like that. This is like the _sixth time_ you’ve pulled this shit. I know goddamn well you haven’t had to ‘look for bamboo’ for two days straight, let alone this many times. _Where were you?._ ”

My hand shakes. I know I can’t tell him the truth, who knows what _that_ would do to the entire space-time continuum. Then again, maybe it wouldn’t do anything. It’s not like I know jackshit about space-time. I’m more of a puppet or pawn. I do the travelling, the adventuring, mystery solving. I don’t _really_ know my purpose. That slightly irks me. For all I know, I could be carrying out Satan’s wishes and have no fucking clue. I just do what I'm told and hope it’s for the best. 

Maybe I could just tell him where i’ve been and make him swear to not tell anyone. Maybe he could help figure out whatever has been happening to me, what things i’ve been put through for no reason. Would he understand? Would he be scared of me? Of what i’ve been able to do? _Of what i’ve done?_ Would he run away and tell the rest of them? Would Quackity leave me? Ranboo? Tubbo? _I’ll wait it out. Maybe I can bring it up at dinner._ I tell myself.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s kinda blurry.. I don’t remember much. I lied because I didn’t want you to worry. Last thing I remember is waking up in some Acacia forest, then I passed out again.” I lie again. 

Sapnap looks worried. His eyebrows furrow and his fists clench. 

“Well, first things first.” He says. “I’m bringing you back home to fix up whatever the hell happened to you. Then i’m going to that forest.”

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sap… really, it isn’t necessary.” I plead. He stays silent, wrapping a bandage around my head. 

“I don’t _care_ if it’s not necessary, Karl. Whoever,” he pauses. “ _Whatever_ pulled this shit is not getting away with it.”

I roll my eyes. He’s always been like this. Dramatic, I guess. Over-the-top, hot-headed. Then again, I have no place to point out his flaws. I’m slowly becoming a pathological liar myself. He yanks the bandage, jerking my neck to the side.

“Can you _chill?_ ” I grumble, rubbing the back of my neck. “Listen, I get you’re angry, you have every right to be, but it’s not my fucking fault I disapeared. You think I don’t feel like shit, too?” He looks at me, but stays silent.

The door comes swinging open. 

“AYEEE! What’s u- The fuck?” Quackity runs over to the chair I'm sitting on, dropping his bags next to me. “Mi amor...” He looks down at me, his voice softening“¿Qué te pasó?” 

“Yeah, yeah i’m alright.” I shake my head. “Got lost.”

“Karl, mi amor, tu suéter ... ¿Estás herido? ¿Quién te hizo esto?” He grabs my hand, squeezing.

I repeat myself. “Te lo dije, me perdí. En serio, estoy bien.” Sapnap introjects.

“I’m heading out to an acacia forest tomorrow to try and find whoever did this to him. I’ll be gone for a good four of five days, so you’re gonna have to fend for yourself.” he winks and slaps Quackity’s back. Alex winces. Sapnap is overly confident. So sure of himself, sure that he can fix all of these issues and surface as the hero. It’s admirable, and it’s going to get him killed. Alex is the same. Hot-headed, assertive. He’s chaotic, lets his heart run his life. Blinded by anger, regret, remorse. It weighs him down. He makes up for it by being loud, funny, and painfully attractive. He’s hurting, and I know he is, but he refuses to let me in. Then there’s me. The pacifist, the pussy. The one who hides behind everyone else, let’s others do the hard work. Alex and Sap would never say that to my face, but we all know it’s true. I’ve never helped in the wars. If anything, I've made shit more complicated. Disappearing for days on end, leaving my loved ones helpless and worrying for “su amor”. I’m selfish. Self-preserving. Using others as stepping stools to bring me to fame, glory. Do I even love them anymore? Do I love anyone anymore? 

“Alex.” I say. He looks up from his bickering with Sap, raising an eyebrow. “What happens when we’re older?”

He gives me a bizarre look. “Well, I don’t know, mi amor. We get wrinkly, all cranky.” He laughs. Sapnap glares at him.

“No, I mean like… Us. _Us_ us. You and me and Sap.” I grip the table. “What happens when we grow up and there’s a new president and a new generation? What happens when Dream’s released and free to ro-”

“Don’t say that.” Sapnap snaps. “He’s-” His gaze drops. “He’s not going anywhere.” he walks to the front door, his hand gripping the doorknob. “Listen-” he stutters. “I’ve known Dream for like.. 14 fucking years. I know who he is and what he wants and everything he intends to do. And I know damn well that if _anyone_ in this server had something to do with you going missing,” His fist slams onto the door. “It was him. He- He’s a liar. A manipulator. He’s charismatic and nice and no one believes that he could possibly be bad until they have a knife through their stomach and that shit eating grin staring at them as they breathe their last breaths. If he gets out of that fucking prison, I don’t care if it’s in 2 weeks or 60 years, we will fall back into submission. Into downright _slavery_. He will seize control and reign hell on whoever stands in his way. He’s capable of things that you could never even _think_ of. So don’t say that shit. Words have power. And he’s _not_ getting out.

Quackity stares at him. “Jesús, está bien.” He whistles. “Dale al hombre un descanso.” 

“Tomorrow at dawn” Sapnap says. “Tomorrow at dawn you’re giving me directions to that forest and I'm finding who did this to you.” His voice cracks. “I’m not losing another person that I love. Not again. I won’t let it happen.” He looks back at me.”Sois bien, mon amour.”. He shoulders his bow and walks out the door.

Quackity looks back at me. 

“So..” He says. “What really happened when you disappeared?"


	3. The Masquerade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karl falls asleep for the first time in over 3 days, and he's transported to a familiar land, a familiar time, but something is amiss.

The room has an underlying feeling of captivity. I’m alone here. Left to reflect the words of Alex. 

_ “¿Por qué estás haciendo esto? ¿Por qué le estás mintiendo? ¿A mi? ¿Es esto algún tipo de broma? ¿Una broma que te gusta hacer para arruinar nuestras jodidas vidas?” _

And I am a liar. I lie and I hide and I bend the truth to my own taste so I can shield my loved ones from what I  _ really _ am. I have issues being honest. It’s not that I purposely want to hurt them or lose their trust. I’m helping them.  _ I know I am. _ I’m doing what’s best for everyone. But the others don’t know that. All Sap and Alex know is that i’m some sociopath obsessed with lying and deceiving for the sake of doing so.

I take my mind off of it by lying back down on the table and closing my eyes. The only other thing I can do besides go outside and face the world of those who don’t trust me, is sleep.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


I wake up in an office. It gives off a very Victorian vibe. The ground is hardwood, a lush red carpet splayed under my feet. There’s a fireplace to my right, and the walls are lined to the top with bookshelves. Book after book, the wall is covered in literature. A chair is propped in the very corner of the room. The armrests are shaped like claws and the feet look like wolves paws. In the chair sits a young man. He’s holding a book, possibly the art of war? The Lilliad? It’s old, that’s for sure. His fingers flip through the pages, and I see a silver ring on the middle finger of his right hand. His face is smooth, but chiseled. He’s clean shaven, and his hair is held back by some sort of hair product. He’s wearing a black shirt, with straps and chains hanging from it. He’s wearing simple black slacks and combat boots. 

_ Odd attire for someone obviously living in the Victorian era. _

I clear my throat and he looks up. He seems slightly startled but his face immediately falls back into a neutral gaze. 

“Can I do something for you?” He’s british. Somewhere posh. His accent is royal, like just speaking entitles you to fall on your knees and begin begging for mercy. 

“Uh, no. I don’t think so. Who are you?” I say. He stands up and looks me up and down. 

“James. Former Prince and Royal Representative of the Krozar Dynasty. Who are you? And why are you in my home?”

“I actually don’t know why i’m here- You see, I just fell asleep so i’m probably in a dre-” James heaves a heavy sigh, signalling for me to stop.

“I asked who you were. And no, this isn’t a dream, this is my house. Again, how are you here?”

“I’m Karl.. Karl Jacobs. I got into an argument with my friend and fell asleep. I woke up here. Again, I really just think this is a misunderstanding” 

_ Or a really weird fucking dream. _ I say to myself.  _ Why am I lying to him? What’s he going to do? He’s a figment of my imagination, this is ridiculous.  _

“Alright then, Karl Jacobs who appeared in my home somehow through a dream. Let’s get you back home.” He chuckles at me. He walks over to me and puts a hand on my back. I gasp and fall forward. Thousands of memories flood my mind and I collapse to the floor.

  
  


_ “James can you get the candles?”  _

_ “One second  _ **_honey_ ** _ ” _

_ “Karl where did you put my hat?” _

_ “My  _ **_love_ ** _.” _

_ “Karl?” _

_ “Don’t leave me.” _

_ “Where is he?” _

  
  


My hands shake and the world around slowly dissolves until I’m in a pitch black void. I stand up and look around. I’m alone. James is gone, the office is gone, it’s only me. 

Laughing comes from behind me. 

“You really thought you could get away with seeing him again? Seeing  _ any _ of that again? I killed him. I killed  _ you _ . No matter how much you beg and try and twist time and your dreams, you’re never seeing him again. Give up. There’s no point.” 

I spin around, but the voice is gone. I’m left in darkness once again.

Slowly light begins to fill the void, a new room filling the empty space. The light and texture and walls mesh together and warp into a thousand things before finally settling into the walls of a mansion. The wallpaper is classic Victorian, the ceiling high and holding up three chandeliers. There’s a grand staircase in front of me, leading up to a balcony and even more rooms. I look down. I’m wearing my normal purple and green spiral sweatshirt. I stand out amongst this royal setting. 

Voices echo from a corridor behind me. I freeze. I have to run. To my left is what I presume to be a kitchen, and to my right, a bedroom. I glance back and forth a few times, then settle for the bedroom.

I sprint towards the room and close the door behind me. Heaving, I turn around. The room is bigger than my entire house. The bed is felt, with a comforter the size of a TV. The walls are lined with even more books than the office I had been in earlier, which I didn’t think was possible. A tall, oak, wardrobe is across from the bed. I tip-toe over to it and dig through hangers upon hangers of royal clothing, slacks, and bow ties. I finally find something my size and manage to throw it on. It’s a simple white shirt with a frilly collar and bow tie. The pants are black with suspenders holding them up. Finally, I put a top hat onto my head. I look into the built in mirror and wow at myself. My hair still pokes from under the hat, but it looks charming. I grab the bow tie and shift it a few times. I practice my smile and smooth my shirt. And I feel alright.

“Welcome everyone to the royal estate of Sir Billiam! I will be showi- Who are you?” A tall, pink haired man looks down at me. He’s sporting a masquerade mask, somewhat resembling a pig. He has a crowd of people, maybe 5 or 6, and they’re all looking at me. 

I cough. “Oh! Uh- I’m Karl Jacobs, proud owner of Jacobrian Estate! I showed up late because of traff- I mean horse carriage hold up!” I nervously laugh.

The man hums “I don’t seem to remember inviting you..” He squints at me through his mask. “Well, no matter! As my father used to say, ‘The more the merrier!’”.

I sigh slowly in relief. The man begins talking again, but i’m not paying attention. My gaze is fixated on a man with a simple white mask, curved up against his right cheek and jawline. He looks at me and smiles. It feels familiar, and I shift my gaze back to the man at the front. 

“First, the kitchen!” He announces. We all follow him into the enormous kitchen/dining room hybrid. A tall, lanky man stands in front of the stove, mixing a pot of something emitting a heavenly eroma. He doesn’t look up from his work, even when the pig man pats him on the back, somewhat aggressively. “This is our butler! He will be serving anything and everything you need during your stay. I’m offering him shelter, food, and clothing in return for his labor and devotedness.” Everyone starts clapping politely when the world begins to dissolve again. I grab onto the counter but fall through as it turns into dust. All the guests fade away, Sir Billiam along with them.

The light returns once again and I'm standing in a dimly lit room, the white-masked man beside me. He holds a finger to his lips and pulls me under a bed in the corner of the room. 

“Wh-”

He elbows me aggressively and holds a finger to his mouth again. We stay quiet, alone in the dark, when the door opens. It’s too ill-lit to tell who it is, but their footsteps are heavy against the ground. They step around the bed, slowly, and sit on it. I can see the outline of their feet swinging inches next to my head. They stand up, and right as I'm about to grab them, they begin bending over. I hold my breath and squeeze the masked man's hand. The person is inches away from making complete eye contact with me when the lights buzz on and they scurry out. 

The world begins to fade for the 3rd time, and I'm once again teleported into a world of inky black midnight. All I hear is silence. The footsteps are gone, the creaking of the door, the light breathing of the masked man, and the buzz of the lights coming to life have evaporated along with everything else that surrounded me.

“Karl- Karl please don’t go.  _ Fuck.  _ Please don’t leave me, not again, not like this.” I open my eyes and I'm holding the masked man, except his mask lies by his side and his hair is stuck to his face. We’re in a closet, the door obviously pried open, as the lock has been torn to shreds. He’s holding his stomach and a metallic stench emits from in between his fingers. He coughs into his shoulder and when he raises his head again, his collar is stained with dark red.

“Wh- Who did this to you? What happened?” I pull him closer and rock him back and forth.

“What do you mean what happened- Karl you were-” He gags. “You were right there. He was- he opened the door- Billiam, and he grabbed me and stabbed me-” He sobs into my shirt. 

I close my eyes. Confusion floods my senses. What is this fucked up universe? Why is everything familiar? 

“ _ Oh my god” _ I whisper.  _ “James.”  _

James’ breaths become shallow, until they finally slow to a stop. I sob into his shirt and gently close his eyes.

The world begins to fade again.

“NO!” I scream. “AT LEAST LET ME BURY HIM!” I sob. “PLEASE-”.

But it’s too late. His body fades away and I'm transported to the void once again.

  
  


“Mi amor, ¿estás bien?”


End file.
